


Quill and Sword

by AnnaTaure



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7503691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the siege of La Rochelle, two of the Cardinal's most trusted servants exhange some views on their job and the incoming war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quill and Sword

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation from my story "La Plume et l'Epée" posted on fanfiction.net.   
> It takes place during "the Three Musketeers", right before the siege of La Rochelle, from Rochefort's point of view rather than the usual suspects.  
> Unlike Rochefort, Denis Charpentier is a historical character, who became Richelieu's secretary around 1608 and remained in the Cardinal's service until 1642; his loyalty and good work were often praised by his employer.

The Palais-Cardinal was quite upside-down on this day of September, 1627. The king, his officers and his army were leaving to fight the rebellious Reformers and the British fleet, which were currently trying – and failing – to take the fortress of Saint-Martin on the Ile de Ré. Naturally, the ministers and half the Court would follow the monarch.

Rochefort made his way with difficulty through the flock of servants that busied themselves in the corridors, and the masons still working in that wing. He absolutely had to see the cardinal before his departure. Unfortunately, when he reached his employer's rooms, he understood that he had come for naught. One of the secretaries, Bourgneuf, told him that their master had left Paris some hours prior with the king, in order to reach Chartres where the regiments were gathering. The king had sped up his departure after receiving rather disturbing news from England, and all his officers had had to follow his pace. Maybe Monsieur Charpentier could help him?

Rochefort shrugged. Of course Charpentier would be able to help him. Nothing happened in the Cardinal's office without his chief secretary being aware of it. The earl was even surprised to still find the man in Paris.

Thus Bourgneuf went away to fetch his colleague and bring him back to Rochefort.

Moments later, Charpentier came into the office with a pile of papers in his arms, a quill poking out of a pocket in his doublet. He put all that burden down on a table before offering the earl a slight bow.

"What can I do for you, my lord?"

"Did the cardinal leave instructions for me before departing for Chartres?"

"Indeed", the secretary answered, "but… it would be wiser not to repeat them here. The walls could have ears. I know an excellent inn near Saint-Germain that..."

"Excellent suggestion. But this time, I will pay for our dinner."

Charpentier thanked him profusely and followed him as Rochefort walked once again through the crowded antichambres to leave the palace.

The owner of the Ostrich set the plates on the table and promptly went back to his kitchen. While Charpentier was filling their glasses, Rochefort thought that they made a rather unlikely duo. What common facts could you find between the son of an oculist, a commoner, Catholic, and a Protestant lordling? If not for the cardinal's service, the answer would probably have been: nothing. But Richelieu had a gift for finding devoted followers in the most unexpected fashion, and did not care for rank nor religion.

Thus he hired Denis Charpentier, the second son of the Court oculist, who felt no attraction for glasswork and whose elegant writing had already been noticed and praised. Since 1608, the little man followed his employer on the roads of France and other countries. As time went by, his round and wide writing had lengthened and gotten more narrow, so much it could be mistaken for the cardinal's. And he had also started to follow the same way of thinking. The personnal opinions of M. Charpentier did not matter, he adopted his employer's and served them well.

Rochefort's career had been slightly more chaotic. During the civil war that had shaken France in the past decades, his father, being both Protestant and a royalist, had been labelled twice as a target by the ultra-catholic Holy League. One good reason was enough for them to kill a man, so two… Fortunately, the young earl's path had led him to another lord that was well-liked in Paris, and often praised by the good king Henri himself. The Marques of Richelieu had taken this empoverished, but very skilled at arms, neighbour in his service and had made him his eyes and ears in the city. When the young man had been killed in a duel, Rochefort had feared that he would once more lose his income, before the marques' younger sibling, the bishop of Luçon, took with him all the household that his brother's death had left unemployed.

And things had changed for the better after that. Rochefort was still harvesting intelligence, arrested some people when needed, also acted as a bodyguard for his lord…

While adapting to his new master, he had met Charpentier. The service had progressively erased the differences in rank and convictions. They had a common goal, which was to ensure, at their own level, the safety of the realm, whatever people could say about them. It had even created a form of friendship between them.

"What are my orders?"

"For now, see that the wench leaves France and reach England safely", Charpentier replied with a touch of distaste.

No need to ask for details. Only one of the numerous women working for their master deserved that unflattering qualification, according to the secretary. Rochefort did not know exactly what his colleague had against the Lady de Winter, but he had never managed to make him change his mind about her. As if it had any importance, anyway. Neither him nor Charpentier mattered much for that high-born woman who never bothered with morality.

"And after that?"

"You can join us at La Rochelle, or one of the armies in the East, in Lorraine or Grenoble, depending on the affectation that will suit you best. I have some orders ready should you wish so."

Rochefort smiled at his employer's kindness, which offered him an opportunity to avoid fighting other Protestants, without condemning him to inaction.

"Keep your papers, my friend. I will go to La Rochelle."

Charpentier smiled behind his glass of wine.

"I suspected so. I will advice caution since, as you know, the king's musketeers will also be there."

"Dueling is forbidden, and during a campaign, I dare imagine that this rule will be enforced even more strictly."

"Even then… some ambush…"

"Oh no. They are far too _honorable_ to stoop so low", Rochefort said through clenched teeth.

He put some coins on the table and picked up his hat.

"Must you leave now?" Charpentier inquired.

"Preferably."

"So here we are, on the frontline again, you with your sword and me with my quill."

Rochefort bowed and took his leave from his colleague, wondering when he left the inn which one, from the quill or the sword, would be the most dangerous weapon. For some time now, wars had been won just as much, if not more, by money and treaties than guns and swords. He was not sure he felt completely at ease in that new world.

 


End file.
